At Dawn
by peachandbetty
Summary: OneShot MadaShodai. Madara and Hashirama realise that with the dawn comes an ending, and so must live this last time as they always have. In the twlight. AU, Vampire, M for warnings as stated inside. For Crazzy88.


For Crazzy, because she said I had skills. T.T So touched.

Pairing: Madara X Hashirama

Warnings: Blood, sex, language and vampires (my first vampire and probably my last, so feel free to flame my arse off)

I Do Not Own Naruto…hurts every time I say it.

* * *

It was the latest buzz in the city. A modern-day fairy tale, blood tainting every beginning, middle and happy ending. Girls' lips moved with an excited hum, speaking to one another of the handsome dark haired men seen more and more frequently in the streets at night, seducing women with but a glance, enthralling them with their touch.

And like all fairy tales, it served to do naught but cast a veil of ignorance and naiveté across their eyes, blinding them to the fading screams of the drained, the red brick that was not red yesterday, and the 'missing person' posters that had seemingly tripled within a few short months.

And he loved it, Madara chuckled to himself as a trail of blood diluted with his own saliva trickled from the corner of his sinfully smirking lips. In the narrow seclusion of the back-street, he looked down at his latest victim, eyes glazed over with the ghostly remains of panic and receding life, and let his eyes run to the weak slithering of blood draining from her neck and escaping down into her once heaving cleavage.

She had been very pleasant to the palate, spicy with a hint of innocence the whore must not have known she possessed. Shame. In his younger years he would have taken great delight in enlightening her. But now…

Madara growled to himself, his mood well and truly spoiled. Why was it whenever he found himself amused, unbidden thoughts of _that man _came storming into his head to trample all over it? That was him though, walking over every thing and every one all for his precious 'ideals'.

His look at the woman turned sour, and as images of _him_ calling him out in front of the Shadow Council, compelling him by force to chastise himself in front of people by right should be considered _inferior _to himself, humiliating him all for the call of an ideal Madara refused to recognise, flashed through his mind, seeing so much red it bled through his eyes.

And so he kicked her, because she the epitome of what he felt to that man. He kicked her because at this moment he _was _her. And he hated her.

"I believe the old mannerism is 'Don't play with your food', Madara-san." A voice called, calm and frosty ringing slightly against the cluttering metal cans that dark streams of blood.

Madara growled as he recognised the voice. How could he forget. The irritating superiority in that tone still rang in his bones form the very first time he heard it. Turning around he forced a pleasant smile onto his face that never quite reached the eyes, still flashing red from pulsating and palpable rage.

"I never was one to abide by etiquette, Sengu-_sama_. But I am truly and _deeply _ashamed to have been witnessed in an act of vulgarity by one such as your self, Chairman-_sama._"

Madara kept eye contact with the other man, his own eyes burning furiously and more so when those in front of him showed nothing of the same. Those eyes made him feel so much less than he was. Than what by right he _should _be.

"Regardless, I have need of your company tonight, Madara-san. The council wishes to review your sudden surge in activity over the last few months. You've been making very hard for us to remain as we were. A _myth._"

Madara held his gaze as his stomach turned at the thought, rage threatening to seep out of his very skin and strangle the man before him. Activity? The endless trail of blood leaking behind him in his wake was the doing of none other than the one before him, accusing him, as he did those months ago, lowering him off of a pedestal he had earned through sweat and so much blood. Because blood was all he had left.

The smile disappearing wholly from his handsome but weary face, he said nothing as he walked past the man in front of him the bane of his existence, and out into the open street, light footfall telling him the other man had followed.

Tonight would be a night he was supposed to fear. To hate. But, he decided, he wouldn't for he didn't have any hate left to spare.

* * *

Hearing a knock at his door, of the cell the Council had infuriatingly referred to as his 'chambers', Madara was lethargic, not making a single sign of assent as he knew the man would enter regardless.

He heard the door close gently behind the footfall muffled against luxurious carpeting, but refused to look at his guest. He wondered, idly, if the man even remembered what hearing that sound once meant to him.

Feeling the sight droop of the mattress under straining springs, Madara felt his heart skip a beat. It was so like back then, this entire scenario. Back when the light creaking of his bedsprings would signify the onset of something that once made him feel so powerful. So damned alive.

"Why did it come to this, Koi?"

Madara's heart clenched at the tone of the Chairman's voice, the usual regal calmness laced now with regret and tenderness. Things he did not want to hear. They were real, and he didn't want to accept what was real at this point. Reality had finally thwarted him.

"What does it matter? Tomorrow my life ends, my name written in the Histories of Shadows in red ink. A criminal. Who cares about the whys of a crime when so much thrill comes from hearing about the whats, wheres and hows. Uchiha Madara, fallen from grace."

The man sat there looking at Madara's back, turned away from him for the first time. He decided he didn't like it.

"The Council of Shadows will receive you at dawn, Madara-kun."

At that, Madara couldn't help but give a bitter chuckle. How dare he. What right did he have to tell him this. And then, it bubbled over, the simmering pot that had been filled with the blood of so many victims. Turning swiftly, he grabbed the Shadow Chairman's expensive pristine shirt and turned him beneath him, pinning him down with strong things and hands either side of his head hissed like a cat cornered into his captive's stunned face.

"How _grateful_ am I, _Hashirama-kun,_ for you to inform me of the news. I will die a _peasant's death_, at the hand of the morning sun!"

Hashirama visibly flinched at the use of his name. The name only ever used by the one he had once shared a bed and bond with. The one that was currently fading behind a mask of rage that was slowly killing him to see imprinted on the gorgeous face he had once delighted in worshipping with his lips.

But he looked on. He would see the man find his peace.

And that's when Madara saw it. In eyes he was always so adept at reading, for he knew every whisper and scream in this man's soul, he saw what he wished he had seen months ago but realised was there all along.

Regret. Sorrow. Torment. Self-loathing.

Submission. The harsh lines etched on his face softened as he let the realisation wash over him. Hashirama had no intention of cutting Madara from his life. He hadn't expected it to happen. He…

"You didn't…give the order. Did you? Why would you let me believe that? You…_did more bad than good!_"

Hashirama lay there, accepting of the words that betrayed his inner turmoil. The pure angst that had ridden him the moment he knew that his own ascent to power was at the expense of his friend and lover's honour. And of his love.

"And I'll do no more. No bad. No good. At dawn, the morning star will greet us both."

Madara's eyes widened at his partner's proclamation. And their eyes met. And suddenly everything was clear as fresh slate.

There was no betrayal, no hurt, no anger or bleak endings to it all. They were two men, remembering in tandem the sheer familiarity or the other's presence, the feel of wandering hands as they memorised each other inside and out, bringing each other to the peak of enlightenment when they both knew with absolute certainty that no bond could be deeper.

And so in that haze of reflection, their lips met eyes closing as they rode the wave of their pseudo-fantasy. Madara's weight shifted to his elbows as his hands languidly caressed his lover's long dark brown locks, stoking the flames as his mouth slanted freely across the other's.

They could both feel their muscles loosen from their tension as breathing became heavy and the warmth of budding lust spread through their bodies. Their tongues met, slowly entwining with each other, occasionally sucking on lips and giving tiny nips between their teeth.

When Hashirama's hands found grip in his dark lover's hair, Madara felt a tug of tightness at his loins, spurring one of his own hands to caress and stroke the soft skin underneath the shirt he was determined to tear off and soon.

He heard his lover groan as he found the nub of his nipple, hardened in evident anticipation of what was to come. His body remembered too well the expert ministrations of his lover, that which made Hashirama a slave to Madara's everything. It was here that Madara controlled him, and no feeling was greater. Like being a fine instrument tuned and played by a master.

Still straddling him, Madara could feel a tell-tale hardness beneath his own, grinding against each other and sending slight shudders down through every nerve in their bodies, increasing the fervour of their passion-filled kissing and caresses.

His lover was now gasping audibly with each tweak of his sensitive numbs, with each pass of Madara's hard cloth-covered cock over his own, and releasing his lips one particularly pleasant shudder made his insides clench and his lovers name tear from his throat.

Madara growled at the sound. He wanted to hear more of it, again and again until it carved itself permanently in his mind. Sitting himself up on his haunches he looked down at his lover with a look of sheer animal lust, before gripping the sides of the man's short and tearing it down the middle, buttons flying in all directions, and discarding it like the hindrance it was.

Hashirama shuddered at the feel of the night air on his skin, cooled from the open window, and Madara wasted no time in taking on of those peaks into his mouth, swirling over them with a wet tongue and still grinding wantonly on his lap. Hashirama's voice cam hoarse when he finally had enough teasing.

"Madara, you bastard, just fuck me."

Madara smirked, the way he had always done, the one that infuriated him yet made him quiver with need. Sitting up once again he divested himself of his own shirt, exposing the broad expanse of his well toned chest to Hashirama's lust-glazed eyes, and ran his own hands over it and pinching his hard nubs in imitation of his earlier ministrations.

"I love it when you talk like that, Hashirama-_kun_. Makes me feel so very needed. And you so very needy."

Hashirama's insides quivered at his dark-haired lover's words, adding fuel to an already blazing fire. Sitting up slightly he moved his hands to Madara's roughly worn denim, faded and stained with the remains of his last victim, and hastily unfastened the button and tearing down the zipper, desperate to feel what treasures lay beneath.

Madara chuckled lightly, and Hashirama knew he was acting like a wanton _whore_, but couldn't bring himself to care as Madara assisted him in sliding the material down his long lean legs and revealing the hard leaking shaft that sprung free from underneath.

The man was truly beautiful. He had always thought so. The way he held himself within the Council, with an air of cockiness that betrayed his obvious power, the confidence that radiated from him for he knew he was attractive and believe that everyone him wanted him but he could chose anyone he desired. Madara had chosen him. Had sex with him, had befriended him and eventually made love to him. In that order.

He broke free of his fond thoughts as he felt a slender hand snake down his smart dress pants, crumpled from the shameless dry grinding of cock against cock. Madara sighed as he grasped at his target, lightly pumping the shaft in its confines, appreciating the pleasure he knew his lover was feeling with his eyes squeezed shut and hisses escaping between his teeth.

Deciding to put the man out of his misery, Madara grasped the waistband and in one hard tug pulled them from over his hips and another rolled them past his knees and off of his legs, bearing the lithe man for his eyes only.

He made a pretty picture indeed. His eyes were half-closed with sheer bursting need to release, cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the strangled gasps that erupted from him, his legs spread slightly to reveal a glimpse of his quivering puckered hole. But what caught him at this point was the sight of his bared dick, pink from caresses and a creamy thick bead of white threatening to leak down his thick veined shaft crowning the swollen head.

He looked like a beautiful little slut, despite all his power and all his influence, his pride and integrity. To him, he would always be _this. _His cock twitched sharply at the thought of taking this man again, making him cry out till his throat was raw and voice hoarse.

Grabbing the man's arms, he pulled him harshly into a sitting position before one more hard yank had the man face-down in his lap. He threaded his hand through the man's hair, caressing gently in contrast to his inner inferno, occasionally pulling to hear more of those delicious gasps.

"You know what to do. Slick me up nicely, Hashirama-kun." His voice purred and Hashirama shivered as it resonated in his very bones and up his throbbing shaft. He eagerly took the man into his mouth, grasping the base with one hand and pumping and twisting what his bobbing head couldn't reach. The man was in no mood to tease.

Madara gave a long, drawn-out groan as his lover stopped to suck hard on the spilling head, smearing his precum over his glistening lips before moving to take one of this loaded balls into his hot mouth, cum-slick thumb now pushing into the wet slit at the tip.

Grabbing a harsh handful of his hair, Madara pulled the man off of his soon-to-explode cock which was now glistening prettily with saliva and his own juices. But something was missing. Holding up his wrist to the other man's mouth, his eyes made the unspoken command that made his lover's member throb with need and hunger.

"Eat me, Koi."

Two deep rumbling sighs filled the room as Hashirama's teeth sunk lightly into the skin of his master's wrist, placing his mouth around the wound and sucking gently the warm sweet red juices the flowed forth. Placing his mouth once again at Madara's engorged length, he let his lovers own blood coat his shaft, trickling down to entangle in the coarse hairs at the bottom.

Looking back up into his eyes, he nearly came on the spot. He sat up and kept the dark gaze as Madara leaned in to growl another command in that sex-laced voice.

"Ride me."

Shifting himself, Hashirama eagerly obeyed, clutching the other man's shoulders as he straddled his lap, his cock brushing up against quivering tones abs and leaving a trail of thick white juice in it's wake. Madara grasped the man's hips firmly, pulling apart his cheeks to reveal what he had glimpsed earlier.

He manoeuvred the man's hole to glide over his shaft, coating it with the juices still wet on his cock, before taking one finger and pushing in without warning. The man above him sucked in a harsh breath before releasing it slowly as Madara began to move it rhythmically in and out before adding another and scissoring them to fight the resistance against the intruding digits.

"Do you remember how it feels after so long, Koibito? Your hole seems to. It's clenching so tightly with only two fingers inside."

The hot lust-laces words were making the Shadow Chairman feel like a puddle of lust. He was desperate to feel the other man's dick fill him. And so, reaching one hand behind him he positioned the cock head at his entrance before matching Madara's dark anticipating gaze and lowering himself, hissing at the initial discomfort as the head disappeared completely beyond the ring of muscle.

Bobbing slightly to adjust, his ass continued to swallow his master's swollen shaft inch by inch until feeling his ass-cheeks his the tops of Madara's thighs.

His muscles unconsciously clenched around the intrusion, and Madara gave a shattered sigh at the feeling fluttering in his stomach. The man was just so tight. Gyrating in small circles, Hashirama's own loins started to flare up as he felt the slight brush of the shifting cock inside him against his prostate., though not enough to satisfy him even slightly. He need to move.

Hands supported on his lover's chest, he raised himself up a few inches before once again swallowing it whole, repeating the motion again with increasing fervour as the wet noises of muscles gripping slick flesh filled the room.

"Haaaaaaah." Madara groaned loudly, the sweet friction over his cock causing the delicious pressure to build in this shaft, pulsating inside his lover's hot body. Gripping the other man's hips he moved him to glide faster and more swiftly on him, bucking his hips up in a harsh rhythm causing his balls to slap audibly against the other vampire's cheeks.

Hashirama groaned as the new force slammed the head of the huge cock inside him against that spot again and again, his cock bouncing with each hard thrust.

"Ah….haaaah. Ngh, Mada…ra. Yes. Th…there."

Madara smirked as he heard his lover's wanton words, but decided he need to see him better, determined to see the man's face as he reached the edge of what would surely be a world-shattering climax. Raising himself onto his elbows, Madara pulled himself into a sitting position, Hashirama still bouncing earnestly in his lap.

Hashirama started to shudder violently, his cock trapped between the two sweat-slicked moving bodies being rubbed in time with the cock pounding relentlessly against his prostate harder and deeper in this new position.

Madara moved on of the arms he was supporting himself on to cup the other man's face, twisting it to align their faces.

"Open your eyes, Hashirama. Look at me when you cum all over me."

The words combined with the intense gaze of his incredible lover were all it took for the other vampire. His entire body quaked, orgasm tearing through him as his nails dug into the other's shoulders, chest heaving as loud gasps erupted into louder cries of sheer rapture and cock twitching violently along with his ass as it pumped sprays of pearly pleasure onto the other's sweat-listened abs and chest.

Madara soon followed, giving in completely to the feel other the other man's ass milking him, grunting harshly and loudy in pure masculine satisfaction before ceasing the involuntary bucking of his hips.

Looking into each other eyes once again, both communicated with a look what neither could ever bring themselves to do with words. Complete trust and acceptance.

At that Madara's arms collapsed beneath him, his head falling limply onto his pillow the other man's cradled on his shoulder. And they lay there.

They lay thinking of the morning to come, and of the things that lead up to it. But inevitably, of the parts that they would never regret, that even in hatred _could never regret, those moments that just for tonight they would retreat to, because these creatures of the damned would feel them nevermore. _

_THAT was hard to write. You have no idea. Please R and R. It's always nice to know your work is being appraised. XX_

_Thanks for reading._


End file.
